Flames
by WhereBrokenHeartsLie
Summary: Their love was like flames- hot, searing and painful. They brought out the heat and the need in each other. But what they didn't remember was that every fire burns out...one time or another. And in it's stead, it leaves behind ashes... ashes that burn greater than the fire itself...Lemon One-Shot Dark Song Fic R


**Flames**

…

…**..**

…

…**.**

**SUMMARY: **_Their love was like flames- hot, searing and painful. They brought out the heat and the need in each other. What they didn't remember was that every fire burns out...one time or another. And in it's stead, it leaves behind ashes... Lemon One-Shot Dark Song Fic R&R_

**..**

**.**

_A Song-Fic- One Shot - Lemon_

_..._

_..._

_.._

_**Written By:**_

_**WhereBrokenHeartsLie**_

_**2012**_

…..

….

….

..

_**Rated M**__ for sexual content and abusive language._

….

.

_Close your eyes__…_

Emerald eyes shut themselves, fluttering in their retreat and the pink lashes glittered with silver, pearly tears. Smooth, ivory eyelids hid the grief and pain easily.

Onyx eyes shut themselves, swiftly and firm in their retreat and their long, raven lashes curled at the edges, tampered with golden. Smooth, creamy eyelids hid the red desire.

They let the darkness behind their closed lids give them comfort.

Eyes remained shut as the silence greeted them like an old friend and the darkness settled in with a finality of its own.

_Let me touch you now…._

Smooth, calloused, slender fingers ran a trail of lust and fire across the unblemished canvas of her soft, satin, white, _white _skin. They eased her discomfort and let her sigh out the distress she felt in the times of War. They massaged genteel into each pore of her being and poured in tenderness into each fibre of her existence.

They barely skimmed the hot surface of her simmering skin, cold in their form as they danced across the dazzling white, _white_ skin with a grace that would have been hard to attribute to a **M**onster.

Rough fingertips eased lust into the skin and the muscles clenched at the touch of them, feeling a current of unadulterated, palpable need run through them.

_Let me give you something…_

They moved swiftly across her body, as if memorizing each contour, each crevice, each hidden curve because those fingers had ached, had yearned, had died for this touch and now that they had this beautiful canvas of perfection before them, they did not want to yield to the hunger. They wanted to prolong the moment before it could slip hurriedly away into another flittering one.

Locks of midnight hair glided across the skin of her neck, igniting a fire she had thought dead and burnt out; they were as soft as rose petals and yet as sharp as knives, carving themselves into her hot skin with a heat that she had thought impossible for a **M**onster to possess.

He moved with the promise of giving her something she would never forget; of giving her the salvation she craved and making her realize that he could give her all that she wanted in some, twisted way. His fingers were light and feathery, cool in their touch as they burned the searing skin, trying to memorize and hold on.

_That is real…_

She needed it.

He needed it.

They needed something, anything that was true and real in their world of betrayal and lies. They wanted normalcy and craved the beauty of something that was true and so they found it in each other. They wanted to hold on to something that was honest and something that existed because in their world, all faded away to leave blood and pain and hatred and they wanted no part of it. Not now.

He couldn't tell right from wrong; couldn't tell what was real and true and what was a lie and the only thing that seemed the very enigma of reality was her. He thought her to be real because she felt so, as she trembled beneath him, with those innocent eyes squeezed shut with something he could name and that body that seared his thoughts and brought forward his desires.

She couldn't live with the pain of the death of a certain blue-eyed, Ramen loving boy and she found herself yearning for comfort, for reality when really her own life was like a fantasy. It was a lie. She found herself yearning for a man who would never give her what she needed but only what she wanted and she let herself submit to the pleasure he gave in the darkest hours of the velvety night. She found solace in her enemy.

_Close the door…_

She had shut it ever so softly, as if even the slightest tremor could be heard by her sleeping neighbours and he had followed her with his feathery footsteps across the black carpet the blue eyed boy had gifted her three years ago and then, they had lain on the black bed, wrapped in their own thoughts, never once touching, nor speaking. The silence had been grim and empty.

He had shut the door of his soul, never once allowing her innocence and grief to enter him because if it did, it would taint him and she would forever be imprinted on his mind and on his soul and he would never rid him of the obsession she brought with her swaying hips and thin waist. He barred the way to his heart and never let her too close because he did not want it to be this way. He never had, but now they had no choice but to live in each other and perhaps, die that way.

_Leave your fears behind…_

When his sinful lips grasped her pert nipple and his finger entered his slick folds, her back arched and her mouth open in a silent scream, her mind too fogged up to actually decipher the meaning of her hunger or to remember the fears that held her flimsy existence together. When his hot breath fell over her soft skin, she would mewl like a baby, desperate and needy and forget the blue-eyed boy who had brought Ramen to her house every day. She would forget the fact that he had died in her arms, crimson and tainted, forever broken and torn. She only felt. She felt the moistness of his rough tongue as it caressed her peak and made her body writhe.

She felt his finger moved slowly inside her wetness as she gasped, a bead of sweat rolling down the side of her narrow face, those onyx eyes turning impossibly darker as her laboured breathing resonated in the darkened room. She would not remember the breaking of her heart as the blue-eyed drifted off into the land of the Darkness. She only felt; she only felt him. She felt him as his second finger entered her and her body raised itself off the moist, silk sheets and a throaty moan lodged itself from her mouth into the open air, leaving her aching for more.

She forgot and she _felt._

When her hesitant fingers trailed down his taut, muscled chest, he shut his eyes and forgot that the most dangerous group of criminals was coming after him, thirsting for what he had once thirst before; revenge. Those fingers raised Fire on his straining muscles and they made incredulous, non-existent patterns on the hard, lean chest leisurely and he forgot about the ruby blood as it had slithered down the body of his dead, dead brother. He forgot about the way he stuck the knife into his brother's chest and how he had smile like a sicko.

When her plump, moist lips met his member, all of him seemed to die and his body spasmed as if burning, because it was burning…it was burning like someone had set Fire to him. He hissed and his mind filled with grey mist, indecipherable and impregnable as it swirled around his head like a tornado, his dark, dark eyes seeing red. Sooner or later, his slender fingers would tangle themselves in her petal locks, squeezing and grasping hard as the intense pleasure threatened to explode upon him like an attack from a predator. He would pull her closer because he burnt for her and he wanted salvation and his mind would be erased of all thoughts, both dark and normal, because it was all too much and his brain could not think of anything but her and her mouth as he gasped, grunting, hissing her name as the waves of satisfaction rolled over him.

He forgot and he _felt._

_Let me give you…what you're giving me…_

And they gave each other what the other was giving to them without complaints or regrets because they both did not want to delve into their hearts and look for emotions which had no use. They did not want to be bound to each other because then, when the time came, it would be hard to sever the tie between them and both of them did not want to have a goodbye. It was better to give each other what they needed and hope for nothing but another night in the silken sheets and the morose shadows. They would provide each other with a sense of belonging that the World around them could not and they would find the sanity in each touch, each kiss, and each caress in those tremulous moments.

They looked for no love nor any compassion or any understanding. The only looked for a place to escape to when the Life they lived was too overwhelming and their souls broken apart into pieces so small that they could not be put back together and that place they found in each other. They were satisfied this way and if that were all, then there was no need for anything more. They didn't love each other- or so they believed so convincingly and they did not care for the other's well-being so long as each was productive and responsive in the bed. So they spent nights, endless ones in misery, sweat and sounds of pleasure and the days waiting for the dark to come and sweep them away into a world which was real and sure and true and existent.

_You are the only thing__…_

_That makes me want to live at all__…_

It was true. They were each other's reason for existing.

She believed him to be her saviour. He had rescued her from the deepest, darkest depths of demise when she would have flung herself off a cliff without a second thought, or perhaps, she would have cut her ivory skin until she bled to know just that she was alive after all. She would have done irrational things just to keep herself sane and real and alive when all she was, really, was dead and her heart was only beating when he was near because the love that she felt for him bound her inexplicably to the man who had tried to kill her. It was dreadful and he was the enemy but nothing mattered. She was with him and her life was complete; she was complete and even if he hated her, even if he loathed her- it did not matter, so long as he continued to fuck her, she would be fine. Fine and happy. Or so she believed.

He believed her to be the Angel who fought the World to pick him from the debris of his own madness and put him together as if one would put back the pieces of a puzzle they wanted to se finished and ready. He believed that if not for her, he would be killing and hating and trying just so hard to find the meaning of his life and his existence when really, it was so clear to him,- he just didn't see. One doesn't see much with dead, _dead _eyes and even with her near, the light in his eyes barely ever roused-let alone flicker. She held him sometimes- very few times, really when his mind was so clouded with terror and fraught with fallacious implications that he could no longer distinguish between the real and the fantasy and with sweating, calloused hands, he would hold onto her, and she would be his anchor, bleeding and weeping too as though her tears could redeem his insanity. He hated her- some part of him did still believed that she was a weakness he could not afford- he could never afford and the other part hated him for dragging her into a World where she would only find Pain. He hated himself for making her so weak and vulnerable and fragile and broken and yet, he could not find the strength in the abyss of his soul to let go.

They found themselves in each other and what mattered was the moment, the rough, hot, wild, sad moment which was extinguished by the cold, rushing waves of the cruel reality.

And nothing could bring them to be alone once more, when they had found refuge in each other.

_When I am with you.._

_There's no reason to pretend..._

Every moment he spent with her, somehow and in some unwilling way, he came undone and he could, by no means, stop himself from being that way. Everything would fall apart to her scrutiny and he would let himself loose and float in her love, her dedication if he could call it as he unfolded before her, memory by memory, word by word until only silence remained and the desire ran like currents in their veins. He found himself wanting to believe that he did not need to pretend with her, that he could be himself because she was the only thing, the only one who knew him through and through and the only one who would stand by him- the link to the Sasuke he had once been and the link to the blue-eyed boy who had died too young trying to save her.

He wanted to believe that he could stay and make it work and perhaps even pick up the pieces from the cimmerian darkness and try to glue them back together and if it were too hard, then she would help him- give him the aid he needed to find the lost soul and then fix him. He wanted to try and make it all smooth and unhurried and beautiful because every time he looked at her, something stirred- like a phoenix rising from the Ashes and yet he was afraid. It was ironic- a man from Hell and yet, he was afraid of the Ashes. He wanted to believe but he knew...he couldn't.

Each time she looked at him, she found herself wondering...could it be _love _she felt in the very depths of her stomach when he fixed his obsidian pools over her form, when his fingers opened her in more ways than one and his voice found her in the Nightmares and cajoled her into the world. She didn't know why but she felt exposed and real and safe because he was there and that was all that mattered. She found- to her own horror and distaste- that she spoke to him about everything and that too, without a thought, even if he were the enemy of the Village and the betrayer of her lover and the catalyst of her ruin. She told him about Naruto and his blue, blue eyes that glittered like the ocean's waves and dampened into a soft, tumultuous colour when he had withdrawn from everything but her.

She told him about that boy who died trying to fulfil his promise to her, who spent aching hours in the night trying to please her- only to hear her call out another man's name, who held her in the day when she could take no more, who brought Ramen every night to their little house and who sat by the Cherry Blossoms until the sun rose and the night ran away with the stars. She told Sasuke about her nightmares, about the people she had killed, about the betrayal she garnered and the pain she felt. She let one drop out and the river flowed, as if a dam were breaking and the flow was too strong for her to hold back. And then, when he touched her, she found herself lost in a world of bewilderment and beauty.

_And when I am with you…_

_I feel flames...again…_

He came alive.

She came alive.

They broke through their shells and burst into the reality of their bliss and fought the nefarious dark until all was white and white. They joined and thrust and moved like animals, raw and wild, hungry and delirious, hateful and arduous. They might as well have been called rabbits in the spring, furious with the world and obsessed with each other because when skin met skin and lips found lips and they connected, the heat flooded them and the ice melted off until they were lathered in sweat and sex. They held onto each other tightly, nails everywhere, a few blood droplets and many tears as they rocked into one another, synchronized and methodical and yet, hateful and wild. All the walls they had built came tumbling down and the transparency of their souls radiated in the aftermath as they lay, cooling and returning, moments before he would walk out, just like every other time, because it was like a holy ritual and that was how it would be and there would be no changing it.

When he fit into her, the world blurred and he came to Life, bursting and throbbing with insanity and clarity as the world turned colourful and incredible. His ice turned into steam and turned to sweat as he clawed her and moved and moved and moved until he could move no more and he was spent.

When she was full with him, her eyes screwed themselves shut tightly and her nail dug into old wounds, drawing crimson streams as pearly tears slid down her damask cheeks- unknown and invisible in the darkness and yet, eternally prevalent.

They burst into fire in each other's arms and the heat gave them truth and life. Because that is what they were all about- giving and taking and screwing to forget the pain and the death and the defeat and since they found calm in each other, they needed and they fought for the need in ways that would have shamed them before.

He wanted it.

She wanted it.

And deep down, they wanted more.

But…they could not have it. They did not deserve it. He did not want to give his broken self to her.

And so they kept _pretending_ and_ fucking._

**I**

She sipped her sake slowly and cautiously, her eyes trained on the door and her heart on her sleeve and the whispers of the nightmares were loud in her mind as translucent thoughts slid in and out like children in a park slide. She held the glass tightly and her throat felt dry, despite the drink she was drinking desperately, her fingers white and her cheeks pale, too because the fear was deep and her breath was short. It was different, this time and she knew it because she was going to tell him and be honest and stop the pretence because she was tired and thought her legs hurt from all the walking in the hospital, she knew her heart hurt more.

He would come any moment and her words would stumble out like whips unleashing themselves and then, she didn't know. All she desired, now, was a life with him. And if not with him, then an end to this shagging because she was sick and tired of being used and being thrown. She wanted more and if he could not- or did not want to give it...or could not find it in himself to feel..._anything..._for her, then it would be best for them to part ways. She-

The door opened quietly but in her tension, she heard and immediately sprang up, her glass spilling the sake and her hair falling out of the messy bun as she stood in a pale, white dress and the blue-eyed boy's carpet beneath her bare feet.

The fallen angel walked in.

His hair was wet, and untamed as it fell across his pale forehead like shadows and his eyes were heavy and hot as they landed her, unforgiving and unyielding in their obsidian state, lashes long and thick as they fluttered in retreat. He was tall; she knew that more than anyone else, and muscular in a lithe, panther sort-of-way and his chest was chiselled- a feature that came only from years of extensive training. His hands were slender and beautiful, calloused by deeds she would not dare to name or to think of and his fingers tainted with her touch and blood. He wore a dark cloak, as usual and he was perfectly capable of hiding himself into the night with that garb. She held her breath because she knew that he knew that she was about to wreck this.

"I wanted to speak to you...about_ this_," she said quietly, her tone neutral and hard.

His eyes bore into her emerald orbs, taking apart every gold fleck to reach her soul and searching through the occasional presence of blue to find the Truth in her words. He knew her well enough to be her silhouette, her shadow if need be and he knew, right now, that she wanted to talk about their arrangement and he did not. But he would listen. And of course, this was the end. It had to be. That explained the painful cramp in his abdomen and the flurry of dizziness.

"I don't think I want to hear what you have to say," he replied coolly, shrugging off his heavy, thick cloak, his eyes never leaving hers.

"You have no choice," she retorted tonelessly and then she sipped her sake once more, before glancing up at the ceiling, indicating that her next words would not be easy for her- she blinked rapidly before continuing, "I don't think I can do this anymore,"

"Oh? Really? After three years of fucking? Honestly, Sakura, what are you? A toddler? Couldn't you have chosen before? Why do you awaken now?" he snarled coldly, striding across the wooden floor until he stood on the gifted carpet, his imposing form towering over her.

She did not even flinch- and he was surprised. She should've flinched...and yet...

"I fell asleep in a dream, Sasuke, and woke up in a nightmare...with you," she replied emotionlessly, her eyes turning blank and indecipherable as they looked into his soul, her words resonating until his very ears rang with them. She swallowed imperceptibly and continued, "I cannot carry on being a dirty little secret. I think it's best...if you...just..."

"Fuck someone else? Karin? Or maybe Ino? Would you like that Sakura? Is that how this game is played, then? Is that the rule, now? So who did you find? Neji..? Lee? Kakashi? Or maybe one of the Akatsuki- maybe Deidara? He reminds of Naruto...right? You told me you screamed my name with Naruto.. , whose name do you call? Naruto's? You want us to be over? Is that it, Sakura? We fucked and we talked and now, we're done? You made the bed, you fucking sleep in it. You agreed to this. You knew. So, who is it? Who is this man? Your heart's with whom, now?" he snapped ruthlessly, enjoying the subtle wincing of her shoulders as they flinched with the impact of his cruel words and feeling something bitter and cold enter his mouth as the words left.

Her eyes were darker and her breath was ragged, her chest rising and falling and he couldn't help but feel that current of familiar need and desire as his gaze perpetuated into her.

He closed in on her, nearing his face until his nose almost touched hers and his skin tasted her hot breath.

"Is that what you want?" he said coldly, the malice in his familiar more like the killer he was and the unforgiving bastard he had lost somewhere amidst the sex and lies. He tilted his head at her mute response and moved closer, his lips so, so, so achingly close to hers as her eyelids fluttered. "Is that what you want, _bitch_?"

She moved, then. So fast that he did not note her sudden movement until after he'd been slapped and stumbled back with the force of her blow, his lips wet with blood and chin covered in it.

"Fuck you! I want you to love me, Sasuke...I want a life with you and a future of endless possibilities...I want a death with you and an afterlife of nothingness because you fill me and bring me back. I love you, damnit, and you don't care and it doesn't matter. I want you to love me, fuck it, and live with me and stay and die and ...I just need your love...I have always loved you. I never got over you. Naruto hated me for it and I hate me for it but I love you and always will..." she trailed off, her voice cracking and her eyes blazing like a hot fire of green and her chest falling faster and faster.

He stood there only for a moment before he was back again, only two inches from her lips and her aching sweetness. He looked into her eyes, his lips barely just touching her lips and his breath mixing with her own until all was hot and sore.

"You want love, Sakura? I'll give you _**love**_," he snarled furiously and then he was upon her, hands, nails and body and lips and they fell down onto the ground, lips locked and bodies crushed to one another's, the anger fuelling their resentment and bringing a heart-wrenching pain that hit them both in the gut until they could find nothing but touch.

They kissed each other with a hunger that had been reborn and curdled and a desire that turned into hate and passion all in a moment and when he bit her lip roughly, her mouth parted and his hot appendage pushed past and explored the sweet addiction he had come to know so well and the soft sound she made at the back of her throat made his member throb inside his tight, tight trousers. Her legs hooked around his slender waist and pulled him impossibly closer, making his crotch line with hers and the wetness that met his member made him tighten his hold on her neck, nails digging into soft flesh. She groaned and arched into him, her sharp pebbled peaks rubbing against his chest as he ran his tongue over her teeth and battled with her appendage until they could not longer breathe and only feel. They kept kissing and she wept- she wept and wept because this was the end and she knew it.

He tore her dress off desperately because there was no time for foreplay- he needed to fuck her now and get it done so he could mourn his loss in the confinement of his own solitary company. He had to have her, and make her remember that he was perfect- that they were perfect and she should never have told him to break this up. He wanted her to ache for this pleasure, for him when he would be gone and lost into the folds of memories that lived inside her pretty head. Her palms were on his chest, her lost eyes pouring with hot tears that burned his face and chest and her chest plush against his. She was naked before him soon, the dress discarded into the shadows and words, and he found her to be so beautiful that he had to close his eyes because if he saw her for too long, he would memorize her and then, there would be no way to rid himself of her. His rough, reckless hands slid down her sides, over her perfect, unblemished skin, down towards her hips until he curled his fingers around her hip bone and dug his nails into the soft flesh, making her arch into him further, rubbing her wetness against him until he had to bite his lip to keep back a guttural moan. He could not give in...And show her...

Her hands trailed over his chest, pulling off the white, loose shirt and then slipping down to take off his trousers- but her fingers were too tremulous and she could not undo the buttons and so, he gently (as she would later describe) took her palms away and then unbuttoned himself, pulling off the unbearable material of his hot, sweaty skin. They were both naked and perspiring and hot. He leaned and planted an open mouthed kiss on her neck, trailing his hot tongue down her cool skin until she was writhing and moaning and begging.

"Please...please...please...Aaaah...please..." she begged piteously as her half-lidded eyes met his.

"Spread your...legs..." he whispered hoarsely, his voice rough and brutal and husky as his fazed mind tried hard to maintain some sort of sanity in the face of his undoing.

Her legs parted to accommodate him and hooked themselves around his slender waist once more, his member right before her opening, the tip touching the slick entrance with the slightest and the bitterest desire. He rubbed himself against her and she moaned loudly, biting her lip until a small, slow trickle of blood ran down her chin and he leaned down and licked it up, following a path of salvation and harmony and disaster.

_Just put me inside you…_

"Aah..." she gasped when he rubbed against her, slowly rotating his hips to drive her to insanity.

His own need was huge and his body was taut, sweat-slicked and thick with pain as it ached to fill her once more and yet he knew, he would never get this again so he might as well make it last as long it could. Her dark, dark green eyes met his and her cherry lips parted once more in gasp as he rubbed his member against her opening without being inside her. His own head was spinning and his fingers held tightly onto her hips for anchor and strength. Her nails dug into his skin and would leave crescents for proof tomorrow, a memory of jaded yesterdays and broken dreams. A drop of sweat trickled down her forehead and he groaned out loud, his eyes impossibly darker and impregnable as they bore into hers, his soul open to her.

_I will never ever leave…_

"The nightmare is over..." he muttered thickly in her ear, his tongue licking her earlobe as she writhed under him, hardening him impossibly with desire and instilling the most inevitable feeling of this mortal world- love.

"I love...you," she whispered back, swallowing the dryness in her throat and trying to think clearly, her legs sliding against his sweaty hips as she breathed hard and laboured to cling onto clarity.

"It doesn't matter...w-we're...done," he said hoarsely, thick and hard against her opening as she tried to pull him closer.

And to end all the pain, he thrust into her.

_Just put me inside you…_

They fit. Perfectly and completely. They fit. She was warm and tight and unforgiving; clenching onto his member as his head fell into the crook of her neck, breathing in her sweet scent and trying to quell the primal need to move because if he did move too fast, she'd reach her peak and as would he and then, they would be done and all would be over. He lay inside her, loving the heat, the pain, the anguish, the pleasure because he wanted to make her remember and cherish. She was…so…so tight. Her lips were parted in a soundless gasp and her nails dug harder into his shoulders.

He drew back, slowly, face buried in her neck and hands tangled in her hair as member met chilled air, her warmth beckoning him back in. Her mewl was enough to make him come, then and there but he wanted this to be slow and calm and endless as he drove into her and out, agonizing and unforgiving. He pushed back in with a guttural, strangled sound echoing in the hollow of her neck as he made an effort to steel himself. She wriggled and he fought back, moving out slowly and moving back in even slower as if they were...actually making love...and not just fucking. Maybe he desired some meaning. Maybe he wanted some sort of impractical angle to this. Maybe he needed this one time to have some sort of realness.

"_Sasuke_," she breathed his name like a cursed poison and he came undone.

_Just put me inside you..._

_I will never ever leave you..._

The thrusts became animalistic and primal and her screams egged him on as he fucked her. He didn't think, he didn't breathe, he didn't do anything but move in and out, the hot sound of skins slapping against each other igniting a familiar coil within him. She trembled beneath him and her walls convulsed as he drew his face up to hers and swallowed her sounds of pain into his own mouth. The kiss wasn't passionate, or beautiful, or soft, or tender- it was hatred and anger, loss and regret, stupor and insanity merging into primal need. Teeth collided, tongues clashes and lips bled. She tasted of misery. He tasted of sorrow. He moved faster and she came, hot juices spilling all over his member. A thick, choked sound left his lips, swallowed by hers as he came, shooting hard and wet into her. They didn't realize the monumentous decision of not using the one thing that had ensured no results- protection.

He pulled himself out almost immediately, dizzy and confused, as his obsidian eyes flittered over her sweating body. He dressed silently, ignoring how her viridian gaze bore holes into his heart and found a way to his soul. She didn't speak and neither did he. They both knew this was goodbye. He moved stealthily through the darkness and shadows and left through the oak door, never glancing back. She lay in the bed, his juices hot on her thighs still and her body cold from the loss of his warmth. Her eyes pricked and she bit back a sob, clutching the sheets for purchase as the throbbing ache within her legs amplified. It was huge and cold and heartless and her body felt bruised and battered. He was gone and so was she. Sakura lay there for a long time, silently weeping, while a mutilated heart shattered into pieces.

**II**

They tell her he is dead. They tell her that the Akatsuki is responsible for killing him. They tell her it is for the betterment of the world and the society that such a killer as him is not alive. She tells them to leave. The Village celebrates his death the day the news is announced and the carnival is full of children who never knew the tru story at all. She sits by her bed, sake in hand and a sour taste in her mouth. The emptiness on her bed never goes away. The women dance, the men sing and the children play on the streets. Naruto would have killed them all, she thinks to herself, for doing this- for celebrating the death of a man who had done everything for the damned village. She sits back into the chair and closes her eyes, imagining how he will look...would have looked if he had been alive. The picture is real and gentle in her mind and the eyes are so black. She feels a frisson of life breathe inside her. When the dreams beat hard, the picture is gone and so is the life.

They tell her that she must come back to the Hospital. They tell her they need a medic. They tell her it is for the betterment of the world and the society that he is dead and now, she must come back to normality. They want her to snap out of it and pretend that nothing happened. She refuses their offers. She refuses the men who come to her door, in hopes of healing the woman whose beauty has awakened fires. She refuses the friends who come to her, in hopes of speaking to the woman who had lost herself inside a man who is long gone. She refuses to believe any of it. The body hasn't come back and perhaps, it's only a rumour. She thinks of the last time they fucked and how sweetly he pushed into her, slow and steady before turning into the animal he was. She remembers how his onxy eyes had glimmered with tears when she told him about the blue-eyed boy. She remembers how his fist clenched when she told him about her own life. She remembers him and so do her dreams. The nightmares never stop.

They tell her to move on and find a husband. She tells them to go fuck themselves. They assure her everything will be fine and she is still so young- that men will accept her, even if she doesn't try. She laughs in their faces and walks away. No one knows that she is bound to Sasuke because they fucked like animals in the heat and no one will know because it is a secret, a lying thing that she hides inside herself because she is afraid of its implications lest it be put out in the open. They don't understand her and she doesn't understand them. Ino comes sometimes to visit her, but Sakura refuses to see the blonde woman and her happiness. She needs no one, she thinks. When she hears that his body has been discovered, she doesn't cry. She doesn't go to the funeral. She doesn't go to the grave. She sits at home, drinking the days away.

Desperation strikes and she goes to the medical shop. Three cycles have passed and she has not bled. Dark doubts cloud inside her mind. It has been a year since she left her house- a whole year after he vanished from her life and was proclaimed dead and his body came to the village. She walks down the muddy streets, in the searing rain until she reaches the shop and asks for the test. The woman tests her with smart eyes and passes the box over. She pays for it and leaves, walking back through the shadows and the clandestine world until she reaches her home. She sets the box down and strips, taking a bath in cherry blossomed water. The tree of cherry blossoms outside her house blooms as the days slip away. She watches the box every day, the dark doubts growing inside her and her fingers tremble each time she reaches for it. She has no courage, she realizes and barks at her own cowardice. She downs bottles of sake and on one autumn day, she takes the test out. And she performs it.

Everything falls apart around her.

She looks out at the cherry blossom tree outside and it's beautiful pink petals as they float effortlessly in the air.

She looks back down at the test and clenches her fist tightly, holding back tears.

Flames.

She realizes now, that after every fire, there are ashes too.

His eyes flash before her, compact and lifeless and his rough voice echoes in her mind.

A lone tear slips down her damask cheek.

She is with child.

_His_ child.

So when they tell her she must move on, she must carry on, she tells them to go and die- she tells them she is pregnant.

And when they ask her who the father is, her eyes drown into misery and her lips pull into a hapless smile.

_Sasuke,_ she says.

..

_**-fini-**_

..

* * *

**AUTHOR NOTE**:

The song I have used for this AMAZING story is FLAMES by Vast and you must listen to it.

How is the lemon? Is the description fine? Is the detail OK? Is any character OOC? I mean, they might be a little but I tried hard to make it as perfect as possible. It's SO hard to write like this. I mean, I killed him and made her pregnant. This IS a one-shot. What do you like? Do you even like it, actually? It took me a LONG time to get this done...like two months or something.

BUT I DID IT.! *jumps up and down and starts crying..*

Please, please review this and let me know if you like it.

I love response.

Aah. It's so sad. I cried a little. It's mean. I LOVE the song. His voice is beautiful. Ah. I love Sasuke too. Naruto is dead, in this fanfiction, I think. Please let me know about any spelling errors etc. and if you think something doesn't fit or it's not good enough, TELL ME.

THANK YOU FOR READING AND REVIEWING (if you do review..) :-)

I'll give chu cookies for reviewing :P

**Lots of Love,**

**WhereBrokenHeartsLie**

**12th August 2012.**


End file.
